“Come in.”
Crow wavered outside the large, ornate doors of his father’s chamber. During his walk to the room, he’d had plenty of time to think about all the possible ways the king could choose to punish him for what he had done. Naturally, his thoughts had driven him to worse and worse possibilities, from simply being reprimanded to losing his title to being cast back into a prison cell. He shifted his weight nervously, tempted to turn around and go the other way.
Any time he felt trapped, his instinct was to run, but that wasn’t an easy thing to do in a castle full of guards. If Albin really did want to have him arrested again, all it would take would be a simple command to the knights, and the former thief would face the nightmare of his failed raid all over again. No matter what his father had to say to him, he had to speak with him so that even if it looked bad, he could at least try to talk his way out of the situation.
With that thought in mind, Crow took a steeling breath and pushed open the door.
He nearly stumbled when his eyes fell on the king’s bed chamber. He’d thought his own room was impressive, but it was practically a hovel compared to this. The room itself was enormous, with gold leaf walls and large windows that let light in from the north, west, and east. On the far left was the bed chamber, with a massive, four-post bed adorned with deep scarlet sheets. Two wide wardrobes stood against the west wall, and a tall mirror was posted nearby—probably so the queen could look at herself while she was getting ready, he guessed.
On the far right side of the room toward the north wall was a library far bigger than the one in the viceroy’s chambers. The shelves spanned from floor to ceiling, packed tightly with decoratively bound books. Offhandedly, Crow wondered what sort of books his father liked to read. With so many choices available, he obviously had his pick.
Moving further south along the right side of the room, his eyes widened as they fell on a small pool. It was square-shaped and built against the corner of the chamber. From a distance, he couldn’t tell if the water was warm, but he assumed that it would be since the public bathhouse was a comfortable temperature, and the king of Brerra would never settle for anything less than what his subjects received.
In the center of the room was a large table, adorned with a deep red cloth and golden candelabras, and seated at that table was his father. The king reclined in a cushioned chair set before a large feast that, even in the viceroy’s opinion, was far too big for one man to consume. He seemed amused by his son’s reaction to the room, and Crow reddened slightly. It was the first time he’d been in this part of the castle. Of course, he had certainly tried to get to it before, but that hadn’t gone very well as the royal guard had caught him before he could even make it past the third floor.
“Come in, come in,” Albin repeated, waving his hand in a beckoning gesture.
Snapping out of his trance, Crow hesitantly stepped further into the room while Preston, who had led him to the king’s bed chamber, followed a short distance behind. The attendant didn’t seem nearly as impressed with the lavish space, and the viceroy wondered absently if he had been here before.
Albin noticed the boy and pursed his lips. “Thank you for bringing Collin here,” he said, holding up one hand as if to ward him off. “You are dismissed.”
Preston glanced between the king and the viceroy and then bowed to the ruler without objection. He turned and walked back out of the room without speaking a word. Crow watched him go and then turned back to his father, feeling another burst of nervousness that made his stomach twist. “You wanted to see me?” he said and then immediately bit his tongue, realizing it was a dumb question to ask when he was already standing in the king’s private chamber.
Albin smiled. “Sit,” he commanded, gesturing to the open chair nearby him. “We can speak over supper.”
Crow nodded and sat down at the table, though he wasn’t sure how much he would be able to eat when it felt like his stomach was doing somersaults in his gut. Regardless, he filled up a plate for himself and ate, using the provided utensils instead of his hands in a meager attempt to show his father that he was taking his lessons seriously.
For a while, they dined in silence, but Albin eventually broke it with a question.
“So,” the king asked, setting down the wine goblet he had just taken a drink from. “How do you like your new life in the castle so far?”
Crow blinked, taken aback by the casual topic his father had chosen to discuss. He had been certain that Albin had wanted to speak with him about his absence today, but it sounded like the king just wanted to catch up with him. Maybe Udolf hasn’t said anything to him yet. He felt himself relax into his cushioned chair.
“It’s different,” the viceroy answered with a shrug. “But the food is good, and it’s nice not to worry about freezing in the winter.”
Albin chuckled, “It is.” He looked up to meet his son’s gaze with another amused smile. “I was wondering more about what you think of your title though.”
“Oh,” Crow tilted his head slightly as he thought about how to answer the question. “I don’t know,” he said insightfully. Realizing that his father was waiting for more of details, he explained, “I haven’t even held the title for a full week. It’s hard to make any judgments about it yet.”
“Of course,” the king nodded in acknowledgment. He leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the table. There was a sparkle of interest in his pastel green eyes as he went on, “It hasn’t yet been a week, but you seem to be excelling in your lessons. Udolf tells me you’re already able to read. Is this true?”
Apparently Udolf has said some things. “Well, sort of,” Crow poked absently at his food. “I’m still not good at it by any means. Written words don’t come to me the same way spoken words do.”
“You’ve only learned to read a few days ago,” Albin laughed and reached out to rest a hand on the viceroy’s arm. “Don’t sell yourself short, Collin. It’s impressive that you’ve even come this far in the time that you’ve been here. Your ability to comprehend language is astounding.”
Crow blushed, mildly embarrassed by his father’s high words of praise. Since he was a fast learner by nature, he was used to picking up new skills in a short amount of time. It didn’t seem all that special of a talent to him, but he supposed that it would please the king, who had told him before that he wanted him to be educated quickly.
“Which brings me to my next point,” Albin continued, making the viceroy knit his brow in confusion. “You’ve already come quite far in your education, but that doesn’t mean you can start getting lazy.”
Crow blanched. Udolf must have told the king about his absence after all.
“Don’t worry,” his father said in a reassuring tone, seeming to notice his son’s anxiousness. “I’m not going to remove you from your position just because of one mistake. That wouldn’t be very just of me, would it?”
The viceroy shuffled his feet beneath the table. “No,” he murmured.
“I’ve got big plans for you, son,” Albin smiled at him. “I still believe you have the makings of a talented ambassador. You just need to put in the effort to learn the skills you currently lack.”
Crow looked up at him curiously, “What sort of plans?” It was the first time his father had mentioned anything about plans. He wanted to know what he was getting himself into.
“Well,” the king leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure you know this war hasn’t been going the way any of us had hoped it would.”
“Yes,” Crow felt his heartbeat quicken. Was his father planning to send him to negotiate with the Younisian king after all? He held his breath. If Albin was already considering ending the war on peaceful terms, then Penelope wouldn’t even have to convince him. However, as the king went on, the viceroy’s hopes were quickly dashed.
“Once you are ready to make the journey, I would like you to travel to Gorm and petition the king to join our forces in the fight against Younis,” Albin announced with a cunning glint in his eye. “The Kingdom of Gorm encompasses the northern border of Younis. I’ve already spoken with my council about it, and we’ve agreed that the fastest way to end this war is to enlist the help of our neighbors and overwhelm our enemy with numbers.”
Crow shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It sounded like a good idea, but he felt rather sure it wouldn’t work. After all, if there was an easy way for Brerra to defeat Younis, then why would Toreus have told Penelope that the war needed to be settled on peaceful terms? He had a bad feeling about this.
“Don’t be nervous, Collin,” his father offered him a reassuring look. He seemed to have mistaken the viceroy’s concern about the plan for concern about his own capabilities. “You already have most of the skills you’ll need to pull this off. I’m certain you can do it with just a little more training.”
“I hope so,” Crow sighed, deciding it would be best to just go along with the king’s assumption. As a barely educated, former criminal, he doubted his word would carry much weight if he tried to speak out against the plan on his own. What would he even say? ‘That’s not going to work because a god told one of the knights in your army so’? It sounded ridiculous even to him.
“I know so,” Albin smiled warmly.
The two continued to converse casually with each other until the last light faded from the windows. Crow said his goodbyes to his father and returned to his room for the night. He kicked off his boots and laid back on his bed, drawing his blanket over his head with a groan. While he was relieved to know that Albin wasn’t planning to strip him of his title, he was concerned about this plan he’d come up with. If his father thought he had a solution to the stalemate, it was going to be much harder to convince him to seek a peaceful end to the war. He just hoped Penelope was able to draw up enough support that the king would have no choice.
It took a while for Crow to settle down, but after a while, he managed to drift off into a fitful sleep.
